Rewind, Yule Ball, Take Two
by Marmalade Fever
Summary: It's fourth year and Hermione's secret date to the Yule Ball is not Krum, but someone even more surprising. DMHG One-shot


Rewind, Yule Ball, Take 2 (One shot)

By Marmalade Fever

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim Harry Potter, the work of Ms. J. K. Rowling. Some direct quotations were taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, page 404. No profit is being made. Please don't hurt me.

A.N. I've been pondering this idea since last summer, when my sisters and I read GoF out-loud. I was trying to guess who my sister might think Hermione's secret date was, and thought, gee, wouldn't it be funny if it had been Malfoy? So, without further ado...

REWIND... Now back to fourth year, shortly before the Yule Ball. Take two.

"Hermione—who are you going to the ball with?" said Weasley.

"I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me," Granger replied.

"You're joking Weasley!" said Draco, behind them. "You're not telling me someone's asked _that_ to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?" Draco wandered off, feeling mischievous. Little did Potty and the Weasel know, he was the one who had asked the "long-molared Mudblood" to the ball. Although the two of them may not have noticed, she really wasn't all that bad to look at. One could say... she had potential. Her hair, if properly tamed, might actually look good. And her teeth... well, weren't they a bit longer only a few days ago? He'd called her that out of habit... but it really wasn't true. The irony was that even after saying that, her friends still hadn't noticed the change. Honestly, they actually called themselves her friends! When he had asked her to the ball, she had agreed, although reluctantly, and with all due apprehension. He had to agree, Potter and Weasley would make fun of her to no end if they knew who she was going with.

FLASHBACK

"Wait up Granger, I need to talk to you," Draco said, touching her on the arm as she started making her way to the library. She turned and frowned.

"What is it Malfoy? I haven't got all day," she said, saucily. Merlin, did her eyes glint when she was annoyed!

"Calm down, Granger." He looked about to make sure the coast was clear. "For once I'm actually going to be nice."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nice? You? To me?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." He crossed his arms and surveyed her, coolly.

"Well, what is it? I really do need to be somewhere."

"No, you don't. I've been watching you. I know for a fact that you've finished all your homework up until a week after the holidays are over, so I think you can skip the library for once."

"You've been... watching me?" Her eyebrow raised even further. "And I'm not that far ahead!"

"Same difference." He shrugged. Why was he doing this? She was a mudblood, for crying out loud. But, no, he did perfectly well know why. "I have a proposition for you."

"If it involves a human sacrifice, my answer's no." She placed her hands on her hips and he couldn't help but smirk. Yes, he certainly did know why he was asking her.

"Don't fret... my Sweet, nothing fatal."

Granger snorted. How many girls would openly snort in front of him? It was amazing. "Excuse me? 'My Sweet?' I'm afraid I don't follow."

Draco leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I'm asking you to go to the Yule Ball with me." He leaned back again to watch her reaction.

"Malfoy, are you sure you want to be on the receiving end of my wand?" she asked, clearly thinking he was up to something.

Draco raised his hands in a display of innocence. "I'm being serious... Hermione."

"Where's some verita serum when you need it?" Granger muttered, under her breath. "And why would you, scum of Slytherin, tormentor of muggle-borns, ask me to the Yule Ball?"

"Honestly?" he asked, looking at her straight in the eye.

"Yes?"

"Quite simply, I suppose I fancy you."

Granger closed her eyes and shook her head, slightly. "You what?"

"I can't get that slap last year out of my head. And honestly, Granger, don't act so surprised. Who would you think I'd fancy? There are only, what, twelve, thirteen girls in our entire year."

"What about Pansy Parkinson?" she asked, concentrating.

"Granger, she's... horrid. And you can count out Bulstrode too. All the Slytherin girls, actually." He shivered. "You can cross all the Hufflepuffs off the list, as well."

"That still leaves six, besides me!" She clearly refused to believe him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Six is a very tiny number, Granger. But if you'd rather I asked one of them..." He made as if he were going to walk away, but, of course, she called him back. "Yes?" he asked.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe you!"

"I didn't expect that you would, but it was worth a try." They stared at each other in silence for a minute.

"Darn it, Malfoy! I don't know what to do!"

"Just to clarify, you really shouldn't expect me to treat you differently afterwards. This is a one-night-only truce."

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow further. "You are trying to get me to say yes, aren't you?"

"I'm actually not sure. If you say no, it'll mean a whole lot less trouble for me."

"And if I say yes?"

"I can't imagine that happening."

"Then why ask at all?"

"Because of the reason I already said, I fancy you."

"Well... I guess there's not a whole lot you can do to me in a room full of people."

"As logic would dictate, yes."

She hesitated. "Alright, then."

Draco blinked. "I'll see you then." And they walked off in opposite directions.

END FLASHBACK

Draco could remember the first time he realized he fancied her like it was yesterday. She had slapped him square in the face. Hatred, arrogance, defiance... he had never respected her more. She had stopped appearing the hopeless goody-goody. He remembered vividly the twinge of rouge in her cheeks and the way she marched off in the opposite direction with head held high, bushy hair, for once, calm and dignified. Ever since he'd had trouble being a complete ass to her. He held her in a sort of reverence, not that he'd ever let on. But now she had said yes. It brought up all sorts of conflicting emotions. He was going to have to go through the utmost care to maintain his dignity. And of course, there was always the Mudblood issue. He was strangely attracted and repulsed at once. What would his father say? Well, he would just have to make sure that his father would never find out. It was as simple as that.

The last few hours before the ball passed slowly, and Draco was still being pestered by the likes of Parkinson on the subject of why exactly he hadn't invited her to the ball. She seemed sure that he was simply being pompous and was going to wait until the last minute to ask her. Which was fine by her, so long as she was right in the matter. Otherwise she would be stuck dateless, and that Durmstrang boy who had asked her had already found another date.

"Oh Draco!" she cried mournfully. "Aren't you going to ask me soon?" They were walking together, or rather, Draco was walking and Parkinson was inconveniently beside him, toward the ball, only about fifteen minutes 'til.

"Look Parkinson! I'm not going with you, so please do me a favor and go jump in the lake!" He sped up his pace and she lagged behind, looking sulky, if not close to tears. Draco took a flight of stairs up out of the dungeons and arrived in the crowd of students that were anxiously awaiting the opening ceremony. Now where was she...? His heart came to a standstill as his eyes came to rest upon the figure of Granger. He had been right. She did have potential. In fact, in all honesty, she was the prettiest girl in the vicinity. She was absolutely breath-taking, and she was with him!

"There you are, Granger," Draco drawled from behind her. She turned, her cheeks turning pink at the sight of him. He handed her a bluebottle corsage and she took it in fumbling fingers, pinning it to her robes. And what lovely robes they were, too! Such a lovely shade of pale blue... Her skin was absolutely ivory beneath them. Her long hair had been straightened and twisted into an elaborate knot on the back of her head. In a word, she was stunning. Draco wasn't the only one to notice, either. Several other boys, and jealous girls even, had turned their heads in her direction, perhaps wondering who this strange girl was. Even Fleur Delacour's admirers took a break to look in Granger's direction.

Draco himself was wearing a high-collared set of black velvet dress robes. Black against white. It was a good combination and he knew it. Parkinson, who had at last emerged from the dungeon, was now staring in disbelief. Nearby Crabbe and Goyle, dressed in green, were staring stupidly at Draco and his very uncharacteristic date.

"This is who you asked instead of me?" Parkinson said in one short whimper, looking close to tears. The most fleeting of smiles appeared and disappeared from Granger's face. She turned her head abruptly, looking toward the party of champions and their dates, then waved at a dumbstruck Harry Potter. Weasley was glaring a bit, and if Draco wasn't mistaken, Granger didn't look at all pleased with him. The reactions alone seemed to be justifying the date.

At long last the champions entered the Great Hall, and Draco and Granger were able to follow. He considered carefully whether or not to offer his arm, but at last decided against it. They weren't on friendly terms, after all. And she was still a mudblood.

"They're all staring," Granger whispered at last. She was still looking apprehensive, perhaps wondering if she should have said no.

"I'm not surprised," Draco drawled. He couldn't get over how good she looked! Was this really the same bushy-haired, long-molared Mudblood from a few hours before? And her posture... She was standing so much straighter than he had ever seen. No bulging book bag. "Shall we sit down?" He gestured to a near empty table, with only a couple from Beauxbatons. He drew out a chair for her, and she sat. Draco picked up a menu from his plate and looked it over. With a glance toward the Champion Table, he drawled slowly at his plate, "Fettucini Alfredo." A mound of pasta appeared on his plate and he took up his fork and began to eat.

Granger sat and watched him eat for a moment before turning back to her menu. He had seen Potter and Weasley eating before. Perhaps she couldn't believe that any boy could eat without looking like a ravenous troll. With a final glance at her menu, she said to her plate, "Chicken cordon bleu." She took up her knife and fork and ate with dainty bites. They didn't say anything for several minutes, instead listening to the other couples who had sat down at the table. Finnegan and Brown were a few chairs down, as well as a pair of sixth year Ravenclaws.

"Hermione," Brown said tentatively, looking up from her meal, "are you... feeling well?" She gave a pointed glance toward Draco and he narrowed his eyes to slits.

"I'm all right," Granger said, with the tiniest of smiles.

"Yeah Malfoy, since when do you go to dances with impurely bred Gryffindor girls, anyway?" Finnegan asked, with his characteristic lack of care.

"You have something on your chin," Draco replied, not answering. Finnegan wiped at his face with a napkin furiously.

"Well?" he asked.

"What do you care, Finnegan? Frankly, I'm surprised you were able to get a date. What's the matter Brown? Couldn't get up the courage to ask Potter?" Brown's face turned pink and Granger looked shocked. Finnegan turned away, uneasily.

"Why do you have to be mean all of the time?" Granger asked, wiping her mouth daintily, having finished her meal.

"It's in my nature." The champions had moved onto the dance floor and Draco glared as Potter tripped over the Gryffindor Patil's feet. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, as the first song ended and a new one began."

In reply, Granger stood and smoothed her robes. He led her to the floor and placed one hand in hers and the other on the small of her back. He could feel the stares of Weasley and Potter and felt an urge to snicker. Granger, on the other hand, was looking forlorn. She wasn't enjoying herself. He led her around the dance floor and they stopped at the end of the song. "Step outside with me?" he asked, not quite believing the timidity he found in his own voice.

"Sure," she answered, nodding. Her mouth was clenched closed and she was blinking slightly. He could tell that she was resisting the urge to cry. Guilt, he assumed. They emerged in the garden, which had been decorated beautifully, though Draco would never use this choice of words.

"You aren't enjoying yourself," he said, more as a statement of facts than anything else.

Granger's face contorted slightly and with difficulty she forced it back into a neutral state. She shook her head. Draco took a big breath and glanced in either direction, before taking her hand in his. She looked up in surprise. "I'm not a complete git, you know, Granger." Any sign of crying disappeared from her face and she looked at him with intrigue. He'd never seen her this vulnerable before. He squeezed her hand.

"I'm not sure what to think of you any more," she said, at long last. "You say you fancy me. You ask me here. You say that this is a one night truce. But what about tomorrow?"

"To be quite honest, I'll be returning to 'World's Cruelest Human Being' status tomorrow."

"But—" Granger began, but Draco put a finger to her lips and she stopped.

"For once in your life, Granger, live in the moment." Draco made another check of the surrounding area and did something he had not been planning on doing. He kissed her cheek. She opened her eyes wide.

"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger! Ten points from Gryffindor!" Professor Snape spat, in repulsed confusion. He and Karkaroff continued on down the paths.

Granger opened her mouth in protest, but the adults were long gone, and Draco chose this moment to take the only chance he would ever have to do the one thing he'd been dreaming of since the year before, and kissed her open mouth. Her arms went rigid and relaxed very suddenly. Draco pulled away and trudged back inside, leaving her standing, rooted in her spot, mouth still agape. "Hermione!" Draco heard Potter and the Weasel confronting their friend. "MALFOY? How could you..." "So HE was your date." "Why would Malfoy ask you to the ball?" "The slimy git!" "Why do you look so pale?" "...Hermione?" But Draco was already back inside, a gentle twirling in his stomach telling him that he would never have her.

THE END

(One shot, I repeat, this was a one shot!)


End file.
